ElfQuest- Skyfire's Tribe: Soulname
by Bitter Grace
Summary: Freely given, it forever changes lives.


Soulname
    
    
    Somewhere deep in the greenery of the Forest Beyond, a tribe of
    Wolfriders hunts and howls, far from the Father Tree, a Holt
    they have never heard of. Separated from their brethren in the
    time of the Tribal Split, caused by Two-Spear and Skyfire, the
    mingled blood of the wolves and the High Ones flow through their
    veins, and their bonds with the wolves are just as strong. They
    are Wolfriders, and their chieftess-to-be is missing.
    ElfQuest: Skyfire's Tribe
    Soulname
    * *
    It was Darkstar in the end who found the chieftain's
    missing daughter. The chestnut-haired stormbringer was buried
    under a heavy snowbank not a treelength's distance from the
    river that would have eventually led her safely back to the
    Holt, sprawled beneath bloody powder. Several charred Human
    corpses were scattered around her. She was still and white and
    cool to the touch, but as Wildwood dug her from her death, he
    could feel the very faint flutter of her mind.
    Starfire lifted his head and whined softly at Wildwood and
    his mount. The great silver-blue wolf had curled protectively
    around Brightmoon, was in fact lying atop her in places, and had
    kept both her alive and scavengers at bay until help could
    arrive.
    The treeshaper didn't waste a single moment. He rapidly
    brushed the snow away from her body and gathered her from the
    silent whiteness. Ever mindful of the blackened arrow shaft
    buried in her lower torso, he carefully arranged her on
    Darkstar's back before leaping aside and instructing the smoke-
    grey wolf to _run_.
    The faces of Brightmoon's family haunted Wildwood as he
    cradled her close in an attempt to put warmth back into her
    body. Brightmoon had been three days overdue from one of her
    customarily-solitary hunts, something that had never happened
    before. Always, she had returned to the Holt, ravvit or not, on
    the day she'd said she would.
    Sabretooth, their chief, had sent out parties of one, two
    and three to find his daughter, the last of the Blood of the
    Chiefs since a plague had claimed the lives of Moonwalker and
    Starseed, Brightmoon's mother and twin sister.
    And the small cub, Golden, would be devastated if his
    foster mother died in the same manner that had taken his
    parents -- the hatred of the Tall Ones.
    Dreamdancer, the tribe's Healer, would be equally
    distraught if she lost Brightmoon, sister of her soul, the only
    person who had kept her sane when a hunt gone wrong had claimed
    her Recognized lifemate Seeker.
    **....wildwood....**
    The sending was so faint, and he was so caught up in his
    thoughts the red-gold headed elf barely registered it. When it
    gently persisted, he started, then shifted his attention to
    catching her thoughts.
    **Brightmoon?** he questioned worriedly, his eyes and
    fingers flying over her deathly-cold, deathly-pale face.
    **Brightmoon?**
    **...humans...looking for the Holt...had to....stormcall...
    they.....shot me.....is...?**
    Agitation and fear for her tribe rolled from her in waves.
    Wldwood sent soothing thoughts. **Just rest, stormbringer.
    Don't worry; everything's fine. We're taking you to
    Dreamdancer. Just a little longer.** _Please._
    A pause. **Wildwood?** Fainter now.
    **I'm here, and I won't leave you.** Frantically, he tried
    to gauge the rapidly-diminishing but still great distance to the
    hold.  his mind sang at him. 
    Weariness and pain momentarily sharpened her sending.
    **Wildwood....you must....tell my father.....Golden....I pass my
    tribal...standing to....Golden....promise me....**
    **You're not going to die!** he replied sharply in alarm.
    **Golden can wait until you've been chief for eights of years.
    I won't let you die!**
    Fainter and fainter now. **...you might not...be able...to
    stop it....i'm so....tired....**
    Wildwood squeezed his eyes shut despairingly. He couldn't
    let her die. Not only was she the chieftain's daughter, but he
    himself had loved her since he had first laid eyes on her as
    cublings. Shocked, he realized he'd loved her the majority of
    their lives.
    But at this rate, that said life would be over soon. She
    would never make it to Dreamdancer; death was too near and the
    healer too far. **Take strength from me,** he finally told her,
    arriving at a decision that hadn't been as hard as he'd feared
    it would be.
    **...how...**
    **Trel. I am Trel.**
    She didn't reply, but his soul name seemed to give her the
    strength he'd promised her, for the flutter of life she still
    possessed didn't seem so fragile now. **Just stay with me,
    Brightmoon,** he begged softly as Darkstar crested a rise.
    Gently, he brushed her blood-matted hair from her forehead.
    Darkstar yipped, and he glanced up involuntarily. With a
    welling of pure joy, he sensed he was now back in sending range,
    and he threw out a mental scream.
    **Dreamdancer! Healer! The stormbringer is badly
    injured! Dreamdancer!**
    Thoughts skirted the edges of his mind, too emotional to be
    worded. Resolutely, Wildwood ignored the fear and frantic
    anxiety and relief and horror as he called again for the healer.
    **How badly is she hurt?** he felt Dreamdancer send to him
    through the maelstrom of emotion from the rest of the tribe.
    **Humans got her,** he locksent back. **She told me she
    had to stormcall, and that they shot her. The arrow shaft is still
    in her side.**
    Fury and concern. **How far?**
    Winter-bared trees flashed by them. **Entering the
    boundaries of the Holt now.**
    **Hurry.**
    She had no need to tell him. He was already pushing his
    wolf-friend in his haste to save Brightmoon's life, had been for
    perhaps the last fingerspan of the sun-cycle. But as the first
    shaped trees were passed, he kned it had been worth it. **We're
    home,** he told the unconscious stormbringer in his arms. **You
    made it.**
    ********
    The search parties were called in, and the anxious tribe
    kept watch on Dreamdancer's den from wherever they were perched.
    Wildwood, Sabretooth and Golden sat crosslegged in front of the
    entrance, deep in quiet conversation.
    Sabretooth held Brightmoon's foster cub loosely in his
    lap, comforting the child when he whimpered for his mother.
    Wildwood stared at the flaxen-haired cub for a long minute.
    "You should know that Brightmoon wants her tribal standing
    passed to Golden," he said suddenly.
    Sabretooth smiled faintly. "She'll live," he said
    confidently. "But thank you for telling me."
    Wildwood wasn't sure how to respond to that, and silence
    descended.
    The uneasy vigil was broken soon after the two moons had
    disappeared from the sky. Dreamdancer emerged from her den and
    stood weakly in the entrance. Damp tendrils of blonde hair clung
    to her cheeks, and her face was drawn and pale. Her white-knuckled
    hands clutched the sides of the opening for support. But there
    was triumph in her eyes, in her thoughts. **The stormbringer
    lives,** she announced.
    Smiles blossomed like wildfire, and tears of relief glistened
    in more than one eye. Howls tore from Wolfrider throats, howls of
    unadulterated joy. In the chief's lap, Golden's voice piped clear and
    high. He scrambled from Sabretooth and flew to the healer, who
    grinned weakly and made room for him to pass into her den.
    As Wildwood was straightening, he thought he saw tears
    streaming down Sabretooth's cheeks to be absorbed by his face fur.
    But the chief was only in direct sight for little more than a glimpse
    before he walked back to his tree.
    The treeshaper shook his head as he turned towards his beloved
    plants. He would forever be grateful to the wolves who had kept life
    stubbornly rooted in the stormbringer. He hadn't been imagining _that_
    at least.
    But Sabretooth, crying in relief? Stoic, aloof Sabretooth?
    No, it had to be bad dreamberries.
    ********
    An eight of days passed before Brightmoon was well enough to
    leave Dreamdancer's den. Even then, her soul's sister protested, but
    the stormbringer was firmly and most definitely leaving.
    **Brin, I'm not a cub anymore,** Brightmoon sent with fond
    exasperation. **You can't keep me tied in the furs!**
    Dreamdancer grumbled to no end. **Look at you!** she retorted,
    her blue eyes glittering with motherlike concern. **You can barely
    stand on your own two feet! You'd be better off staying in those furs
    for another day or two to regain your strength.**
    The young chief-to-be shook her head stubbornly. **This White
    Cold is the hardest yet,** she sent firmly. **The tribe needs every
    hunter out along the game trails just to survive.**
    **I'm sure Sureshot's and Ravenlock's parties are doing just
    fine,** Dreamdancer remarked acerbically. **It was hunting that landed
    you in my den to begin with, and you won't even _touch_ a bow until I
    say you can!**
    **I refuse to let someone do my hunting for me!** she blazed,
    pride flaring up. Without even thinking about what she was doing, she
    adopted a stance her father often used in skirmishes with other members
    of the tribe. Her silver eyes bored defiantly into Dreamdancer's face.
    The healer stared back with a thoughtful, narrowed gaze. A smile
    pulled at the corners of her lips. >>Definitely Sabretooth's daughter,<<
    she said to herself. "Fine," she growled, turning her back on her friend
    lest the smile on her face betray her. "Just don't stick yourself with
    any more arrows."
    Brightmoon relaxed and touched the healer's shoulder, sending her
    thanks and her gratitude, then left the den. Starfire rose eagerly from
    where he had been lying beside the tree, and Brightmoon smiled, scrubbing
    at her wolf-friend's ears. She gratefully threw a leg over his shaggy
    back and allowed him to carry her through the Holt.
    Unsurprisingly, she found her thoughts were taken with the
    treeshaper who had saved her from her cold sleep. As a cub, she had
    always been a
    little taken with the redheaded Wolfrider, following him mercilessly
    when he went off with Stoneclaw to learn plant lore. As she had gotten
    older, she had looked longing at him, hoping that one day she might be
    granted the intimate knowledge of his soul name.
    Now, she had it, but not in the way she wanted. She wanted
    Recognition with him, to share life, cubs and hunts. This...this
    left her unsatisfied.
    Her thoughts wandered until returning to a tale Shadowlight
    had howled last firenight. A tale of two who had gone against their
    fates, cheated what had been written in the stars, and taken Recognition
    into their own hands.
    A smile curved over her lips. >>Trel,<< she thought with sweet
    anticipation.
    ********
    She found the treeshaper in the Howlkeeper's beloved dreamberry
    meadow. She stared at his back for a long moment, a strange mixture
    of anticipation, exhiliration and fear choking her chest, before
    carefully dismounting. She scratched Starfire's cheek and sent,
    **Go hunt, old friend.** The wolf swiped at his elf-friend's fingers
    with his long red tongue, and vanished soundlessly into the forest shadows.
    Leaving the stormbringer alone with the treeshaper.
    **Wildwood?** she tried softly.
    He jerked, and belatedly she realized that he hadn't heard her
    approach. **Good hunting to you, stormbringer,** he replied evenly,
    turning to watch her with guarded blue eyes, though not guarded enough,
    as a hint of dread seeped into the cerulean color. In his hand, he
    held a laden twig from one of the dreamberry bushes, and his long,
    red-gold hair clung to his face. Obviously, he'd been absorbed in
    coaxing the succulent fruit from its winter hibernation when she'd
    rode up.
    **I know what you did for me.** Her eyes were just as guarded
    as his as she went right to the point. She felt his mind closing off
    as she locksent, but she persisted. **And I know _why_.**
    **To save you,** he snapped gruffly. **There was no way you'd
    have made it without the strength my soul name gave you.** He turned
    away. **That was all.**
    **Really? I don't think so.** "Trel..." she said softly, pleadingly,
    and he stiffened as if slapped. But he did not turn back. Brightmoon
    circled him and knelt before him. Taking his free hand between both of
    hers, she pressed again. "There's another reason, Wildwood." No answer.
    She took a deep mental breath. **You love me, don't you?** He was unmoved.
    **_Don't you_?**
    He jerked free of her grasp, and the dreamberry twig went flying.
    "Yes!" he shouted desperately, his expression angry. "Fine! You know the
    truth! I've loved you since I was a cub! Now, let me be alone, Brightmoon."
    She was silent for a moment. Hesitantly, she finally said, "I want
    to tell you a story, treeshaper. About a little girl-cub, who tagged
    after a red-headed boy-cub because he fascinated her. As this little
    girl-cub grew older, she found her thoughts of him were no longer fascinating.
    They were longing. She longed for him, to mate, to live, to love."
    Tears were running down her cheeks. "After seasons, she finally had what
    she wanted, but not in the way she wanted. She wanted something more.
    Has always wanted something more."
    "To give a soul name is not an easy thing," Wildwood said hollowly.
    **Look at me, Wildwood. Trel. Please?**
    Because he could not bear to hear her begging for something he had
    the power to do for her, he bleakly raised his eyes to meet hers...
    ...which glittered and drew him deep inside her mind, to where her
    essence floated naked. **I love you, treeshaper,** her mind whispered to
    him. **I am Zyll.**
    Wildwood stared at her in shock, barely registering the fact that
    he was gently touching her face. "What...what have you done? I've never...
    felt this way..."
    "I finished what you started," she said, suddenly looking small and
    vulnerable. "I thought it was what you wanted." She bit her lip. "What
    we both wanted. Isn't it?"
    With a groan, he pulled her to his chest and wrapped both arms
    tightly around her. Closing his eyes, he breathed in her scent, hardly
    believing this was happening. **Yes,** he confirmed. **You are what I want.**
    Brightmoon shook with tears, with pent up stress and pain.
    **Trel,** she asked softly. **Don't leave me.**
    As Induced Recognition seared through their souls, and made them one,
    Wildwood pressed his face into Brightmoon's chestnut hair. **Never, Zyll,**
    he promised feverently, tears streaking down his cheeks. **Never.**
    ************
    


End file.
